


Bad day, good night

by Beweme



Category: Don't Starve (Video Game)
Genre: Awkward Sexual Situations, Biting, Flirting, Hand Jobs, Im lonely ok, M/M, NSFW, Rape Fantasy, Safe Sane and Consensual, Sexual Fantasy, Touch-Starved, Wilson is thirsty af, its basicly just porn, its nothing exclipt but its there so just heads up if you're sensitive
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-29
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-03-15 07:27:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29060547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beweme/pseuds/Beweme
Summary: Maxwell accidentally witnesses Wilson jerking off when the younger man thinks he's asleep, and to make matters worse there is a lot of moaning Maxwell's name during the touching.
Relationships: Maxwell/Wilson (Don't Starve)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 55





	Bad day, good night

**Author's Note:**

> Found this oldish thing among my messy WIP folder. Not sure if I really like it, but hey, maybe someone else will!

Wilson and Maxwell had fought a lot that day. Which wasn't out of the ordinary routine of their day, but Wilson had been extra grumpy and not at all co-operative in any way. When Maxwell asked some spider silk Wilson just told him to go get it himself, and after Maxwell tried to make him understand that he needed help, the short man had thrown a god fucking damned spear at him! Maxwell was not the one to lecture people for their behavior, but one given thing should be that you don't throw weapons at other people!

So it wasn't any surprise that they spend the rest of the day separately until it was time to go to sleep, and even then Maxwell found himself laying a little bit farther away from Wilson than usual, just in case the other man was still in a bad mood. He didn't fancy the idea of setting the other man off just by existing too close to him, so a little more space between them could only do good.

He heard shifting behind his back, a clear sound of movement, of turning around. He quickly closed his eyes. He hoped that Wilson had fallen asleep already, that the man was only tossing in his sleep, and wasn't turning around so he could attempt a conversation-

"Max?" He heard the young man whisper in low voice, and he sighed internally "Hey, Max? Are you awake?"

Maxwell didn't answer, instead laying still and pretending that he was anything but awake - he didn't want to have a conversation this late, and he certainly was not in the mood of starting a fight again. So he pretended to sleep. Whatever Wilson had in mind could wait til the morning for sure. 

The man behind his back shifted, crawled a bit closer and Maxwell felt the head push against his neck very lightly as if to not wake him. So, Wilson was just hungry for some affection? Not really a surprise, the scientist was known to get a little lonely from time to time, thought he had never gotten particularly touchy before. The closest Wilson had ever gotten to relieve his need for touching was just sitting very close to Maxwell, after some rough day, leaning on his shoulder, which Maxwell allowed just because he was too tired to fight it.

There was more movement, a shiver and twitch, and quiet breathing that was starting to get heavy, and for a moment Maxwell was left wondering what the hell the other man was doing. Then it clicked in his head when there was a husked, deep whisper of a moan against his neck "Ah...Max...well..."

Oh. _OH._

Maxwell felt the heat creep upon his face when the younger man's panting and moaning only grew behind him. Keeping still and acting as if he was asleep felt like the biggest challenge he had to ever face in his entire life, but Maxwell was too mortified to do anything else at the moment.

"Unnh..." 

Maxwell could almost feel the movement of Wilson's hand when the man touched himself over his pants, he could feel the young man's chest rising up and down when he shifted and shook quietly against his back, trying to keep his voice down.

Suddenly Wilson lifted his head, his nose and lips replacing his forehead on Maxwell's neck, breathing hot, heavy huffs on his skin, before taking a deep inhale through his nose. _He breathed in Maxwell's scent_ , the man realized.

Oh god. Oh fuck. Why. Why did he decide to pretend to sleep. He felt uncomfortable knowing that Wilson was right behind him jerking off and panting on the back of his neck. Although he must admit that mostly he felt uncomfortable because Wilson thought that he was alone and nobody heard him, and Maxwell kind of felt like he was intruding something personal that he wasn't supposed to witness. Well, at least he didn't see anything. But god almighty he heard and felt enough to make up for it.

The scientist pushed a little bit closer, his chest rubbing slightly on Maxwell's back and his parted lips trembling when he let out shaky, lustful breaths. The hairs on Maxwell's neck stood up from the humid air and excitement he hadn't realized he was in. He tried to keep himself calm, he felt weirdly uncomfortable yet he found himself wishing that Wilson would continue. It felt wrong, but it's not like Maxwell had never done anything wrong in his life before. What was one more bad thing added to the list?

"Ahhh... hh... Please, M-Max..." the scientist breathed, moaned more like, and Maxwell could feel and hear him undoing his pants and pulling his length out, stroking it, first slowly and carefully, but he quickly moved faster while his lips tickled the older man's neck as Wilson heaved in deep breaths.

Maxwell almost held his own breath now, mentally struggling to keep still and ignore the feeling of the front of his suit pants getting tighter. God damn Wilson... he was always so troublesome in the most unpredictable ways - Although Maxwell couldn't really blame him, seeing as the man thought he didn't have any audience and couldn't be blamed for the things he did when he was in his own privacy.

Suddenly Wilson's free hand landed on Maxwell's hip, and the man barely prevented himself from flinching (and thus giving himself away). For a second his mind was racing, thinking of all the possible things Wilson could be doing when he thought Maxwell was fast asleep, imagining those weather roughened hands on his chest, the fingers sweeping over his nipples, touching his private areas and moving over his body while the man was huffing needily on his neck, touching him the ways he shouldn't be, the ways that he had no right to do when Maxwell was unconscious, and he realized that oh god he was excited about the thought...

But Wilson's hand never moved from his hip, only resting there when the man kept fucking his own hand, trying to quiet his moans with little success. The shivering sensation run through Maxwell's body when Wilson's body jolted when he started to make faster, deeper thrust and his breathing got quick and thin.

"F-fuck... nnnh!"

The fingers on Maxwell's hip grasped just a little bit tighter when Wilson climaxed, his body frozen in place and suddenly short of breath. Maxwell felt his own body burning and had proceeded to completely ignore the bulging in his trousers in order to escape this mishap without causing either of them more embarrassment. The younger man's body behind him finally relaxed, the hand over him pulled away and the lips were replaced again with the fuzzy hair when Wilson pushed his head against the other man.

It didn't take long before there was a heavy, silent snoring behind his back. Maxwell found himself frowning. Wilson could at least clean up after himself, for heavens sake.

Maxwell laid still as the stone until he was absolutely sure that Wilson had fallen asleep. Then he dared to let out a sigh and tried to calm down, even though the mental images of what just happened made it very difficult. Now it definitely was impossible to get even some amount of sleep. The man shifted a little and tried to find a good position to lay in, but he didn't dare to turn to face Wilson. Hopefully the sensation of Wilson's lips on his neck would leave his mind and return back where they belonged in the morning.

\---

Wilson understood that people had their odd days every once in a while. It was okay, and he didn't mind, seeing as he was probably having those days much more often than his current camping partner. But today Maxwell had been acting really odd the ways that were weird for even Maxwell. It was catching Wilson's eye that the man was acting somehow distant, stiff, uncomfortable.

Now, Wilson was aware that Maxwell was not loud or talkative person when he wasn't playing an obvious role of the big bad villain or making a point of being too good for some chores or things like that. But today he was quiet in very specific way. Maxwell would never waste an opportunity to rub some minor mistakes on Wilson's face or complain about something that literally nobody else than he himself cared about. But not today, apparently. Today Maxwell was just snorting or scoffing quietly and let the things go without any argument. Even though Wilson didn't want them to fight, he had grown to know how Maxwell acted, and seeing him not act like a jerk was worrisome in some level.

And sure, maybe Maxwell wasn't very touchy person in general, avoiding any physical contact to the very end, but it wasn't like Maxwell to get startled when Wilson's would tap his shoulder or pat his back, not at all.

Why? Wilson could only assume it was the fight that happened yesterday, or maybe it was the whole yesterday. Hell, Wilson could also assume he had been a little bit too mean to Maxwell, even if the older man was annoying and got on his nerves, he had been treating Maxwell very poorly the whole day due to his stress levels being higher than the sky. And now Maxwell was offended, maybe even hurt. Wilson could admit it had been in the heat of the moment, he had acted without thinking, his body reacting before his brain when he had almost thrown the spear on Maxwell.

He should apologize. It was very ungentlemanly of him to pick a fight over every little thing over the course of the day, and even Maxwell deserved to be treated better.

"Maxwell. Can I talk to you?" he asked from the man who was currently emptying his backpack to the chests.

"Mhmm."

Wilson frowned. Normally Maxwell would've said something snarky, like 'you already are' or 'I don't know, can you?', not just something completely impassive like 'mhmm'.

"Have I offended you in someway?" Wilson didn't even need to finish his sentence when Maxwell already tensed up, a slightest twitch on his face.

"No."

"Are you sure?"

"Mhmm."

_Mhhmm. Rrrright._ Wilson sighed and rubbed his neck.

"Look, I can tell something is bothering you, and I can tell it's about me."

Maxwell glanced at him, rising his eyebrow.

"Is that so?"

"Yeah, it is. Be honest with me; did I hurt your feelings yesterday? I realize I was in a very bad mood and wasn't very nice to you, but you are acting... very weird right now." Wilson lowered his voice, trying to get his genuine regret across to Maxwell. The other man turned away.

"It's nothing, don't worry your little head off about it. I have to go." Maxwell almost threw the rest of the stuff in the chest and rose up to leave, but Wilson caught his hand before he was able to go.

"Are you sure?"

Maxwell opened his mouth and froze in place, his face turning to the shade of red that Wilson had never seen before.

"...Max? What was it?"

"Nothing. I have to go."

"Nothing? Was it something I said, something I did?"

"It wasn't-"

"Then why are you avoiding me!?"

Maxwell started to look less like a man and more like a cat that realized it was cornered and the escape routes were very much none existent. Wilson wouldn't have been worried, but he knew this cat had claws. Very big, very sharp claws, and he wasn't afraid to use them.

"Maxwell, you can tell me, you know I don't want to fight. I promise, I just need to know."

It wasn't that Wilson was afraid of fighting with Maxwell. They fought often enough for him to know that it wouldn't be anything earth-shattering. He just didn't _like_ fighting. And maybe, _maybe_ he was just a tiny bit afraid to lose Maxwell because of something stupid and trivial that wasn't even worth of fighting for.

"Please?" Wilson realized he might've sounded a bit like a whiny kid asking for something sweet from the store, but Maxwell was apparently too bothered by something and he didn't notice - add that to the list of things that were very unMaxwell-like. 

Maxwell was getting physically uncomfortable, a rosy color only deepening on his face. He scowled deeply and glared at Wilson the first time since the younger man came to talk.

"I said it's nothing. Leave me be, Higgsbury."

With that the man yanked his hand away from Wilson's grasp and stormed off. Wilson stared after him, dumbfounded and confused. He really didn't get that guy sometimes.

\---

The day went by, the whole day, and Maxwell was still avoiding Wilson like a plague. And Wilson was starting to get worried. They weren't really 'friends' friends, but they were on relatively good terms with each other. Wilson had worked hard on that relationship, and now he felt upset. There were a lot of impulsive, unexpected things that ruined friendships, and Wilson was sure that he had crossed the line somewhere in his bad mood.

Maxwell had never avoided him before. Maxwell was not the one who turned his eyes away, Wilson was! Maxwell was not the one who stormed away in frustration, Wilson was! Maxwell wasn't the one who got flustered and blushed and was lost for words, Wilson was! And this was all wrong and backwards!

The scientist groaned quietly and ruffled his hair. He should just go to sleep and maybe he would feel better in the morning. It wasn't even that late yet, but Wilson was ready to retreat to his tent and sulk there about this issue.

The issue was waiting for him in the tent. Wilson stopped and stared at Maxwell who just sat there, tapping his fingers together like some overly dramatic super-villain. The scientist was just about to turn around and apologize for intruding, but Maxwell spoke before he could act.

"It's last night."

Wilson tilted his head "...What?"

"The thing that bothers me. It's last night." Maxwell said with much lower tone, turning his head so he didn't have to look at Wilson. The scientist puckered his lip, the wheels turning in his head. Last night?

He didn't need to come to the conclusion himself, because Maxwell just grunted and leaned his forehead on his hand.

"I wasn't sleeping."

Wilson felt how his brain crashed inside his head, and his whole body suddenly stopped functioning. Well, he was never gonna look Maxwell in the eyes again. Actually, packing up his bags and moving far far away and burying himself in the nameless grave sounded very preferable alternative way to spend the rest of his life at the moment.

"I- uhh..." Wilson placed his hand over his mouth, uselessly attempting to hide the shame. If he could stop breathing on command and drop dead, this would be the great time. He had hoped that Maxwell would never find out. Oh god, Wilson's blood turned cold when he silently wished that Maxwell would never know how many times Wilson had jerked himself off while thinking about the older man. It's not like he had a crush on Maxwell, but the man had been so significant and big part of his life here, he had been so dependent of Maxwell that he had grown attached to him even when he was completely unwilling to accept it. Okay, maybe he had a tiny bit of fondness for the man inside his heart. He just didn't want to acknowledge it.

"Was that the first time you decided to satisfy yourself while thinking about me?"

Maxwell's voice was blank, unreadable. Wilson was in the verge of starting to laugh like a maniac to prevent himself from screaming like a banshee. This was horrible. Oh god, Maxwell was going to kill him. He could never, ever survive this.

"...No." he squeaked pathetically. Come on Wilson, be a man, keep yourself together. Maxwell hummed shortly as an answer.

"You were laying _really_ close to me last night."

Wilson swallowed. Okay, he had obviously crossed the line there. There were boundaries you should not break, and he did, and this was a completely fair reaction to that. He let out a quiet sigh.

"...Listen, I'm sorry. I won't do it again. I will give you some space if you need it, I..." Wilson stopped, realizing that he might have just ruined this relationship with Maxwell he had built, and continued in a bit more regretful voice "... I will make myself my own tent tonight. I won't bother you anymore. Again, I'm sorry."

Wilson hung his head and turned to leave, but stopped when there was a sound of Maxwell getting up from the fur roll, and suddenly, sooner than he was ready for, there were cold hands resting on his shoulders, and he felt the huff on his neck and froze.

"Don't be like that, pal. I am the one who should apologize for being so _rude_." The fingers slid away from his shoulder, running playfully over his throat. Oh, the claws, there they were. Wilson shivered and tensed up. He was a mouse and Maxwell was a cat, playing with him before the upcoming death. Oh god he was right, Maxwell _was_ going to kill him. 

"What- what do you mea-"

"I should've let you know that I was _very_ awake and _very_ aware of your little shenanigans..." the index finger moved over his Adam's apple in threatening gesture "And to think you were so stressed out the whole day..." Maxwell's voice was different kind of low now, it was predatory and dangerous. It left Wilson feeling very awake and aware too. Mostly of the fact how easily Maxwell towered over him, and how nobody would hear his screams of pain when he would die by his hand.

"Tell me... do your fingers always wander on me when you play with yourself?" Maxwell's other hand moved on Wilson's hip, exactly at the same spot where Wilson's own had been just the night before, and he felt the fingers sunk into his flesh. He let out a small yelp.

"N-no, I swear I have never touched you!" Wilson felt the sudden panic rush through him. He wouldn't do something like that, he would never, ever do anything without consent, he-

"Do you often moan my name and press your lips on my neck?"

Wilson had never felt so ashamed in his life.

"I am so, _so_ sorry Maxwell, I-I-"

And suddenly, when the warm, slick tongue licked his ear flap and there was an amused chuckle behind him, Wilson was hit with the realization that Maxwell was not threatening him, he was _flirting_.

The hand on his hip was moving in slow circles, the fingertips of the shadow-blackened claws playing with his shirttail and the band of his trousers.

"So tell me... What was it that had you in such a tight situation last night?" Maxwell mused, his fingers diving just a little bit too deep inside Wilson's pants to be seen as any kind of innocent, accidental slip, before returning to wander around his abdomen.

"...What?"

"What were you imagining? What was _so delicious_ imaginary that you couldn't contain yourself?" The fingers slipped under Wilson's shirt and the man shivered at the sharp claw circling on his navel.

"I... I was uh..." Wilson wasn't sure what was happening, or how this could be happening. He had wanted this to happen, he had dreamed about this so many times before, but now that it was really happening he was absolutely terrified.

"Yes?" came the awaiting whisper behind him, the hand lightly squeezing his neck.

"I... I was- I was in the forest and you..." Wilson bit his lips and closed his eyes. This was so embarrassing. He felt his heart beating too fast to pretend that he wasn't excited, and he knew Maxwell could feel it too.

"Go on. I'm listening".

The fingers under his shirt were casually slipping in and out of his trousers, not intruding his underwear, thank stars, but it was so _distracting_ to know how close it was to happen.

"I-I, I was in the forest and you caught me off guard... Y-you were angry at me, and wanted to hurt me-" Wilson cracked his eyes half-open, his chest heaving for air and the big bulge in front of his pants just getting bigger and harder when he even thought his fantasy and that it was about Maxwell who was behind him and making him say it out loud.

"Oh? You know I wouldn't hurt you... If you don't give me a reason to." the hand slipped down and grabbed his erection, squeezing it softly, but it was enough for Wilson to let out a gasp that melted into a moan when he was massaged over his underwear, the other hand still on his throat.

"Youh... You wanted to hurt me b-but I- oh, nh... I sold myself for you and you had... h-had your way with me and-" Wilson closed his eyes and his own hand moved to rest on Maxwell's wrist, encouraging him to continue the touching and oh god he had wanted Maxwell to touch him for so long...

The other hand disappeared from his throat for a moment, only to snap the buttons of his pants open so fast that Wilson could only imagine _what other things Maxwell could do with so fast fingers_ -

And Maxwell ripped his pants lower until the clothes were hanging close to Wilson's knees, but the shorter man was too distracted to think that he wasn't even half-decent when the big, dark claws squeezed over his length and slowly, so agonizingly slowly started stroking him.

"Go on, I'm sure there is more." Maxwell's voice was maddeningly calm.

"Hnnn... Y-y-you pushed me on the ground an- ah-and you- you forced your way inside me and it hurt, and hnn... oh... You f-fucked me so long and there was so much bloodhh..." Wilson stopped to suck in a deep breath when Maxwell gave him one more forceful stroke, and run his thumb over his leaking tip "Y-you laughed at me and said that no one would hear me scream, and you fucked me for ouh... hours...and I... I was bleeding to death...y-you were so forceful...nh-"

The claws on his cock were so rough yet never really hurting him, always on that thin line where it was unclear to him if the sensation was pleasurable or painful, and Maxwell was _way_ too skilled at this, unfairly so, and Wilson could feel himself getting so hot and bothered and his blood was burning inside his veins.

"Well, pal, looks like there aren't anyone here who _could_ hear you..." came the warning behind him and Wilson felt his heart drumming against his ribs.

Wilson whined out a pitiful sound.

"You- you'd have to, to make me."

There was a pause when Maxwell stopped touching him and fell silent, and part of Wilson was grateful that he was able to catch his breath but the other part was angry that he was pulled away from his bliss.

Then Maxwell laughed and leaned closer to his ear.

"... I think we both know that I will." Maxwell smirked and his horrible, amazing, perfect hand resumed the touching, and Wilson slowly returned to his trembling, foggy sensation. The claw around his cock pulled along his length slowly, with little pressure on just in the right places, and Wilson threw his hand behind himself, pulling Maxwell closer and trying to coax him to keep going to just let him reach his peak.

Maxwell was moving his own, long tongue over Wilson's neck, his sharp teeth scratching the surface with lingering feeling of threat, and Wilson was already returning to his fantasy in his head, being vulnerable and hurt and used, and he was starting to thrust himself on Maxwell's hand, huffing loud and fast and getting lost in his mind.

Without a warning the gashing pain returned his mind on earth when he realized that Maxwell had bitten his neck, drawing blood, and Wilson screamed as his pleasure mixed in within the pain, the tears forming in his eyes. Maxwell pulled his teeth, the god damn fangs more like, away from his neck and pressed his mouth over the bite, sucking the blood out like a vampire and licking the marks he had left there. Wilson's scream had toned down to just a loud moaning and whimpering, the young man still bucking his hips to Maxwell's hand that squeezed and stroked and then pulled away from his thrust before returning, never letting him get close enough to orgasm but keeping him on the edge, swaying there helplessly. 

"Stay with me, dear. Tell me what you want" Maxwell's low, greedy voice slithered inside his ear and made him shudder out a breath. He tried to find his voice, finding it hard enough to stay on his feet which were trembling weakly, barely able to keep him standing.

"Let me come, pl-please..." the scientist was able to stutter out, trying to reach that blissful release, pushing himself on the hand and pegging to be let go of the stimulation that was not enough, so good but just never quite enough-

"Now that wouldn't be how it went, would it?" Maxwell's voice was mean and amused "I thought that you wanted me to force you on the ground-" Maxwell suddenly kicked his own legs on the back of Wilson's knees, making the short man lose his balance and fall on the ground on all fours, letting out a startled yelp. Maxwell fell over him, his hand still working Wilson's erection to keep him balanching on that edge of the pure pleasure and pain of almost reaching what he was seeking but not quite.

"-And just come inside you and fuck you raw untill there is so much blood..." the older man continued to feed his mind with the images, humming as his other hand started to circle around Wilson's ass, making the man gasp in confused mix of emotions "And make you scream as I fuck you for hours until you eventually bleed to death..." Maxwell pressed his crotch on Wilson's naked behind, and the young man started to get frightened, knowing very well he was in too vulnerable state to put up a real fight and he could do nothing when Maxwell's teeth returned to sink into his tender flesh, bruise it again as his claws were forcing themselves on his leaking, throbbing member faster and harder.

Wilson was a mess, in the middle of pleasure, wanting hoping crying to let Maxwell reach his orgasm and fearing for his own life when he could feel the sharp digits playing on his entrance and he knew it would hurt like hell when Maxwell would take him without preparation and he was too overwhelmed by everything to speak or even think, only able to weep pitifully when he was overrun by way too many emotions at once.

"...Come to me, Higgsbury, you are going to break at this rate." Maxwell hissed in his ear.

And he did. Wilson stiffed up, his legs shaking and eyes rolling in the back of his head, opening his mouth to gasp, to scream, but no voice other than sobs came out. Maxwell kept him close, the shadowy hand slowly milking him, until he didn't even know if there was anything left to spill, guiding him through the white static that took over his mind, until finally letting him collapse on the floor.

Wilson laid there, sobbing, empty and tired beyond measure, and he didn't refuse when Maxwell lifted him up and placed him on his back on the fur roll. His hazy, foggy mind was slowly starting to return back to him, and his heartbeat slowed down, his senses clearing up.  
He felt amazing. God he had never thought that feeling like this was even possible. Only goes to show that you should try everything at least once, if for no other reason, then in the name of science and the possibility of getting the best handjob in the universe.

Maxwell hummed to himself when he cleaned Wilson up with a small cloth and pulled the fur blanket over his weary body. Wilson blinked. He wanted to say something, but god his head was still spinning from the whole thing and he had barely any strength to even think. he turned his head and saw Maxwell getting comfortable on his own side of the tent, laying down his back turned to Wilson just like last night. Wilson blinked again.

"M-max...Maxwell..."

"I'm sorry that that wasn't exactly what you were dreaming about. Don't you worry pal, I'll try to be more rough next time."

Wilson tried to hide the burning red color on his face, burying half of his head under the blanket "...Next time?" he dared to ask, hopefully.

Maxwell chuckled, rolling over and grasping Wilson's chin between his fingers "You know Higgsbury, I never would've thought you'd want this even once, but since you seem to like it so much, I suppose we can go for the next round some other night."

Maxwell let go of him and Wilson burrowed his chin back under the blanket, watching Maxwell stood up.

"I'm going to start the fire before it gets dark. Good night, Wilson." the older man nodded and smirked at him, and soon Wilson was left alone in Maxwell's tent. He felt funny, in a good way, but there was a little something bothering him that he couldn't pinpoint. Wilson turned to lay on his side and let his train of though run, wondering his feelings towards Maxwell and Maxwell's to him. He sunk deep in thought and didn't pay attention to darkness falling and Maxwell finally, after at least and hour, returning inside the tent.

He glanced at the man, who answered his eyes briefly before returning to lay on his side, once again turning his back at Wilson.

"... I suppose I should apologize for yesterday."

Wilson blinked, confused. Then he smirked and crawled closer. He huffed on Maxwell's neck, and the man shivered slightly. Wilson's smirk just widened, and he pushed his body against Maxwell's back.

"I'm sorry too. I just had a bad day."

"I see." Maxwell said quietly, with very thoughtful voice.

Wilson's smile faded slowly, never disappearing completely. 

"If you'd like... I could make it up to you. I could show you a lot of other things I have dreamed about doing to you..." he whispered to Maxwell's ear, and the man froze.

"...Doing to me?"

Wilson chuckled out a laughter.

"You didn't think that I only ever thought of your hands touching me? Oh no, Max. There are a lot of things I would love doing to you..." Wilson purred and wrapped his other arm around Maxwell, who tensed but didn't try to get away from the embrace.

The magician was quiet a while longer, until he lightly run his fingers over Wilson's hand and let out an amused huff, which sparked something warm inside Wilson's chest he had tried to bury away.

"I suppose I could allow that."


End file.
